Katie clutched her broom in her hand so hard that her knuckles were a splotchy white. How often had she talked to upperclassmen? Never. How often had she talked to boys in general? Never. And here she was, on a quidditch team on which there were both upperclassmen, boys, and upperclassmen boys. She highly doubted she would do as well as everybody else would.

It was entirely too much for her 13 year old self to handle.

"All right!" Oliver kicked himself into the air and floated about ten feet off the ground. "We'll be scrimmaging today!"

What on earth was a scrimmage?

"And for you newbie lot, that just means we'll be playing each other in a practice round."

Oh, dear. Katie could feel herself shaking. She wondered why the professors would allow tweens to compete against practically grown seventeen-year-olds.

"We only have one keeper, though," someone said.

Oliver smiled. "Would you like to be keeper then?"

"I'm fine," he responded.

Somehow Katie's mouth opened on its own accord. "I'll do it!"

Oliver looked her way and she almost collapsed on the spot from fright. The captain was examining her capability.

"You tried out for chaser, didn't you?"

"Yeah," she said, swallowing the lump in her throat.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah."

Keepers didn't have to fly as much, she knew. And if her defenders were any good she wouldn't have to do much, anyway.

Katie flew hesitantly to the goal post. It's not that she didn't believe in her flying skills. She just didn't believe in her face's skills to survive if she were hit in the face. "I'll just have to duck," she murmured, amused with herself.

Oliver blew the whistle and released all of the balls right as she reached her position.

She comfortably watched the Weasley twins fly in complex patterns and layovers far away from her, and Oliver sitting on his broom with crossed arms. If only she actually knew what she was doing...then this would be a lot less mind wracking. Maybe she should bring it up to McGonagall to have a juniors team. Why weren't there activities outside of class, anyway? The Gryffindors could definitely use a card trading club, or a charm accelerator. And what was up with the fat lady? Ever since the beginning of the year, the passwords had been slowly getting more and more depressing. The Hogsmeade trip would be-

"BELL!"

Katie squeaked and plummeted ten feet before pulling up in a mini wronski feint.

"WATCH THE GAME!" Oliver hollered. "JUST BECAUSE YOU'RE IN KEEP DOESN'T MEAN YOU GET TO LOUNGE ABOUT LIKE A SLAB OF MEAT."

Katie cringed. The other team had scored on her and was celebrating obnoxiously loudly.

"YES, SIR!" she yelled back.

"DON'T SIR ME. JUST DO IT."

Katie felt as ruffled as a cat thrown in a drier as she went back to her station. Oliver sure had gotten good at his Captain Voice.

"Have to pay attention," she whispered, determined to save even one goal.

The game resumed, and this time she made sure to pay attention. She was so sure that her back was beginning to ache from its uprightness.

Just as well, because a chaser was coming at her with a break. "Come on, beaters!" she mumbled.

No bludgers came.

Katie steeled herself for the oncoming blow.

As the quaffle neared the right ring, she let out a yelp and flung herself in that direction.

And, well, the next thing she knew, she was in the infirmary, staring up at a Miss Pomfrey was was dabbing her face with a cloth.

"What…" Katie croaked, "happened?"

"Oliver, the dear boy, carried you in here with her nose bleeding red roses all over your quidditch uniform. You had a concussion, a broken nose, and a few broken blood vessels around your eyes. All fixed."

"Wait, who?"

"I healed you, of course."

"No, I mean, who carried me?"

"Oliver."

Katie smiled a small smile to herself, feeling childishly giggly. She still wanted to be chaser, not keeper, though.